Thanksgiving at Elsinore
by Obscure Bird
Summary: Claudius invites characters from other plays to dinner, and Hamlet plays crazy again.


Thanksgiving at Elsinore.Ah Dunnae ain Hamlet. Or the ither plays.  
"Why are we doing this again?" Hamlet groaned. Servants streamed everywhere carrying food and candles, tablecloths and chairs, cleaning and decorating the entire castle. It was rather annoying. The young prince couldn't go anywhere to think out loud about human mortality but some bumbling clown was there to listen in and report to his uncle how screwy he was acting. "This isn't even a Danish holiday!"

"Oh, I know, I know," Claudius hushed him, "But it seems like such a lovely custom, doesn't it?" Gertrude hung on his shoulder, humming a song to herself. Hamlet hated to think how stupid his mother could be. He'd clearly inherited his genius from his father. "Besides, there'll be plenty of.. er, interesting... people coming. What do you call it? Tragic heroes? Maybe you can make some new friends. -God knows you could use some.- Would you like that, Hammy? Hm?"

"Don't call me Hammy. I'm not four, you know." He crossed his arms over his chest, the perfect picture of teenage defiance.

"I'm sorry Hammy- er, Hamlet. I just have difficult remembering you're not insane anymore."

"I never was insane, Claudius."

His uncle smiled. "Of course you weren't. You were just a little upset for a while. That's okay though, everything's alright now."

"God, you're an idiot!"

"Now, Hamlet, the guests will be here any minute. Why don't you go put on some nice clothes?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" the prince snapped.

"Well, ... it's... this isn't a funeral, you know. Couldn't you put on something... cheerier?"

"No. Never." Hamlet turned away from his uncle, scowling. How dare they suggest he dress cheerily when his father was dead?!

"Hamlet, do as your father tells you," Gertrude chimed in. "How about that pretty blue outfit I gave you last summer?"

"He is NOT my father!" he screamed, storming off to do his mother's bidding.

As he stomped away, he heard her ask, "Claudie, is Hamlet going crazy again?"

"I sure hope not," his uncle replied.

God, I hate everyone, he thought as he marched up the stairs to his bedroom. They're all so stupid! He pulled off his back shirt and dug through his drawers for the shirt his mother wanted. As he put it on, he thought of something. He would act insane - again- and ruin his uncle's big dinner! That'll teach them right, he though as he barreled down the stairs.

His audience had already begun to arrive. Claudius and his mother were greeting a cruel-looking woman and a man wearing a kilt, who were apparently married. " We weren't expecting you so soon," Claudius was saying. " At least not for another hour... but it's so good to see the both of you!"

The man pulled a destroyed watch out of his sporran. Springs and gears jutted out of it's mangled body and the front of it was missing, but he looked at the shattered face anyway, apparently noticing nothing wrong. " Is it tha' early? Ah did-p0nae think it was," he muttered, returning the mutilated thing.

Claudius laughed uneasily. "Gee, that thing looks like it's been through hell and back."

"Och, na. Ah juist stabbed it cause it started talking tae me."

"Right," Claudius agreed nervously.

Grinning from ear to ear, Hamlet strode quickly to his uncle's side. "Why are you wearing a skirt?" he asked cheerfully. The man gave him a deadly look.

"Ah... Macbeth, this is my son, Hamlet," the king explained. Leaning forward, he added, "He's a little touched, if you know what I mean. Just ignore him."

"Uh huh. Hae dae ye dae, Hamlet?" Macbeth asked.

"I'm not his son, he's my aunt."

"Richt. Ah see what ye mean," he said to Claudius.

"Yes. Well, the two of you make yourselves at home. Hopefully the others will get here soon, " Claudius announced cheerfully. "I have something to see to, but I'll be with you as soon as I can. Come, Gertrude." Bowing, he swept out of the room. Hamlet was alone with the two guests.

He looked hard at the woman, and leaning close to Macbeth he whispered loud enough for both to hear, "Your wife is a liar."

"Ah am no'!" Lady Macbeth cried indignantly.

Hamlet turned to her husband. "You're a liar too."

Macbeth just looked at him, then at his wife, then back to Hamlet. He just shrugged. "Are ye no' gang ta dae samething?!" she shrieked.

"What, and lie ta him?"

Lady Macbeth looked like she was about to either slap him or scream at him when an oddly dressed English man flew at them from the direction of the door. "MACBETH!!!!" he screeched excitedly, wrapping his arms around the startled Scot.

Hamlet grinned. "SHAKESPEARE!" he cried, tackling both the playwright and Macbeth. Now this ought to prove I've lost it for sure, he thought. The disgruntled thane escaped with his lady as Shakespeare tried to crush the prince in an airtight hug. Luckily, Hamlet managed to pry him off before he suffocated. "Shakespeare, Claudius is my father right now and my father is dead so while Claudius is my dead father will you be my uncle?"

"I love it when you act insane!"

"Great! Let's have a parade through a beggar's guts to celebrate! I'll get the worms and fish if you'll steal the skirt-man's shiny knife!"

"Oh, Hamlet! You want me to die?" the playwright wailed.

"Aren't you my uncle?"

"No!"

"But you said you would be! You lie!" with that, the young prince completed the act by running away, laughing maniacally. He heard Shakespeare crying as he dashed down the hallway toward the hall where he hoped he could find Polonius. If anyone would carry the news of his latest bout of madness, it was that old windbag.

Instead he found another pair of guests. This time it was a Moor and a timid young woman. The girl looked frightened and confused as she stood beside the sulking, angry man.  
"Othello, please, don't make a scene! What did I do??" she pleaded with him.  
"You know what you did, you whore," he growled.

Hamlet grinned. "Are you married?" he asked them.

"Yes," they both answered.

"Ha! Sucks to be you! Marriage means nothing! You know, all women are whores or nuns. Most of them are actually both. And they kill people who are awesome so they can remarry people who suck. AND LIE!!! EVERYBODY LIES!!!!" He stopped a moment, blinking at them innocently. "So tell me. Were you married before or after I decided that anyone else who gets married has to be killed?"

"I thought you were supposed to be crazy," Othello said.

"Of course not," he said simply. Then roared "WHO TOLD YOU?!"

"Your father."

"He's not my father, he's my aunt." There was a momentary silence between the three of them. "Have either of you seen a man wearing a skirt or an English guy with one of those...things....you know...like clowns wear...."

"A ruff?" Desdemona asked.

"No! A GIANT RED NOSE!"

"I haven't seen anyone like that," Othello said. "Are you sure it wasn't a ruff?"

Hamlet was impressed by the man's stupidity. "I'm positive."

"Oh. No then. But we did see a crazy old man who I think was English."

"TopHopANopKop YopOU!" He screamed as he skipped away at about twice the speed he'd ever thought it possible to skip. Sure enough, came upon a white-haired old man with two young girls behind him. The girls were bickering about something. One pushed the other so that she ran into their father.

"WILL THE TWO OF YOU STOP FIGHTING!?" Lear screeched, whirling around to face them, "WE ARE AT A PARTY! BEHAVE YOURSELVES, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

While he was yelling at them, Hamlet crept up behind him and shrieked at the top of his lungs. "AAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"

The old king jumped and spun around. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE I WOULD NEVER HAVE ACTED SO DISGRACEFULLY! WHERE IS YOUR FATHER! IF YOU WERE MY SON YOU'D HAVE SUCH A SORE ASS FOR THAT, YOU WOULDN'T SIT FOR A MONTH!"

"If you were my father..." Hamlet whispered, " You'd have such a dead ass you'd sit underground for a month."

Lear was dumbstruck, but his daughters weren't. "Edmund SO loves me more," Regan said.

"Like, no way. Did you SEE the way he was looking at me? He totally wants me," Goneril replied.

"Oh, nuh-huh! Last week he was like-"

"ARE THE TWO OF YOU JUST GOING TO WATCH YOUR FATHER BE INSULTED!?"

"Like, Chill, Dad, we already told you we loved you."

"BUT I LOVE HIM MORE!" Hamlet cried. Grabbing the old man, he kissed him loudly on the cheek and ran away screaming. "AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! DADDY DADDY I WANT TO DIE TOO, WAIT FOR ME DADDY! I WANT TO DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" He tore through the castle gates, the confused porter looking after him, and circled the grounds at top speed. "POLONIUS! DON'T LET ME KILL MYSELF POLONIUS!!!! POLOOONIIUUUUS!  
AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! DADDIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"

He finally came to a stop, panting for breath. He thought he had heard a window slamming above and somebody yelling, "Oh, no! Not again!" Suddenly he couldn't wait for dinner. He returned to the gates and went back inside as if nothing had happened.

The porter scratched his head and took a long swig of Scotch. "Ah cad hae swarn Ah left a' the Whackaes back in Scotland," He muttered as the prince walked away.

. 


End file.
